Broken Compass Book Novels & Stories

They stood between the Unhollow and the little bell. The dark thing's voice became a storm. Hunger was first. Jack lifted the compass. "Maybe." The compass pointed at the bell. Jack understood. Not fully. He rarely got full explanations before bleeding. But enough. He pressed the compass to his chest. Katherine saw the motion. "Jack, what are you doing?" "Giving the first tool a place to ring." "That sentence is not medically reassuring." The bell dissolved into light. The compass opened. Dark-gold. Amber. Obsidian. And now, a tiny hollow note, folding into the binding agent that had always come from the spaces between.

And each new, clearer sketch had a different word underneath. “This is useless. Nothing makes sense,” Shem scoffed and dumped a book on the table. Crusoe however narrowed his eyes as he glanced across all the books. The last one was in his hand and it had the clearest picture of a wolf surrounded by orange and yellow fire. It was infact, made of the fire itself. And underneath it was the word ‘Mate’. “Open the books. All of them to the page with the sketch,” Crusoe spoke up. “Why?” Jericho asked though he was already flipping a book to find the page.

I did not belong here. The restricted section wasn’t for people like me—not unless you had high clearance or knew someone on the inside. I had neither. I was good at getting into places and out again that people could not easily see, though, and desperation had its peculiar knack of opening doors that nobody intended you to go through at all. The book on my knees was bound in a cracked leather, loose at the seams, and torn here and there in the spine. Symbols danced across the page, some I recognized, others that seemed to shimmer just out of comprehension. But I kept reading. I had to.

Broken, manic. "See? They're scared. They actually are scared!" Every pursuit, every hunt just proved his story. And he knew he was holding the one card that could flip the whole game. In some underground hideout, he burned the last of his cash at a black market stall, buying a ripped map and a cursed compass that practically oozed doom. The map pointed to a place even S-rank bosses avoided—the Abyss of Mist. The compass? A forbidden relic called Fate's Compass. One-time use. Drag any target straight to you. The cost? Insane.

The one she swore she’d never open unless she had to. It wasn’t really a book anymore at all. It used to be, once — long ago, before water and smoke and teeth and panic had worked on it. Now it was a block. Thick and lopsided, bound in mismatched leather, edges burned and split. Half the pages were gone, charred to curls. The writing that remained had bled in places, ink like old blood, symbols Baylee didn’t recognize, stuttering between languages that shouldn’t have sat together.

His answer came with absolute certainty. "To meet..." "...the First Reader." The library collapsed. Not with fire. Not with violence. With silence. One shelf after another dissolved into countless glowing letters. Instead of falling, the books unraveled into streams of light that drifted upward, disappearing into the fractured white sky. Adrian instinctively reached for one of them. The moment his fingers touched the light— A voice whispered beside him. "Every forgotten story leaves behind a question." The light faded. Only the ancient crystal compass remained in his hand.

In the throes of nervousness, she nibbles on her lip and managed a timid, "Alright." Upon their eventual return to the comforts of home, Leo presented her with a tome of imposing proportions, entitled "A Compendium of the Supernaturals." The book's weight was almost a tangible representation of the vast knowledge it held, massive and weighty, and her hands throbs with discomfort as she accepted it.

Vines capped with spiked leaves crawled up golden trellises, nearly kissing the domed ceiling high above my head. I paused, drinking everything in. What I really needed was to find my second hint and make my way back to my mates, but beauty like this deserved to be appreciated. An errant thought hit me, and I cursed myself for being so stupid. The compass! I had my way back to my mates—my home. I rummaged through the folds of my gown, to the hidden pocket within. My fingers met silken fabric. Gone was the bite of warm metal. My compass was gone.

I said to him and he sighed. "I know it sounds crazy but I can't shake all this off Liam, I just can't. I feel like I'm slowly losing my sanity and it feels like someone's trying to slowly drive me mad with misery. I'm under investigation for an attempted murder when I can't even hurt a darn fly. I lost my job, my reputation that I may never get back and now I've lost my cafe and another murder case is about to surround me cause they will investigation and since I already have a pending case, they'll add me to the list of possible suspects. Tell me now Liam, am I really not cursed?" I asked, heaving a sigh of frustration as it dawned on me that I am indeed a misfortune like mom always told m

On his black bookshelf sat a comic book collection that would make Kiaan jealous as well as books with symbols—some of which she recognised from Damien's jewellery. "So from what you said, it sounds like you guys were trying to summon an Alastor," he said as if the solution were obvious. "Exactly what I was thinking," Jess joked. Malus laughed. "These things usually last for a limited time." After going to his shelf and selecting a black covered book. When he opened it up, Jess saw it was full of handwritten script and drawings. He licked his thumb and flicked through the thick, off-white sheets. "Ah, did you notice if there was a full moon at the night of the spell?" he asked.